


When And Where?

by darlingsdream, softbxtch



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff and Angst, Galaxy Garrison, Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, Keith & Shiro (Voltron) Friendship, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, M/M, Oblivious Lance (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Rivals to Lovers, Sexual Tension, Sexual innuendos, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:20:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24083488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingsdream/pseuds/darlingsdream, https://archiveofourown.org/users/softbxtch/pseuds/softbxtch
Summary: Words were just words at the end of the day Keith had to keep reminding himself. Sometimes, they really didn't need to mean anything in particular or even anything at all. At least these were the things that he kept telling himself as he tried to avoid the complexes that came with the words that were branded into his skin.------In a world where the first words your soulmate says to you is written into your wrist, Keith isn't blessed with the best soulmark.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron), Matt Holt/Shiro
Comments: 12
Kudos: 157





	When And Where?

**Author's Note:**

> This was initially written as a crackfic. We were kind of just joking around one day about book ideas and this idea came to us. We kind of developed a whole plot for it though, and we believe it came out pretty good? In any case! This fic will also be up on our shared Wattpad account CELESTIALNOVVAS. You can also find us on our main wattpads hvnsdarling and gracking!
> 
> We hope you enjoy our crack angst fic. it sums us up as writers!

Words were just words at the end of the day Keith had to keep reminding himself. Sometimes, they really didn't need to mean anything in particular or even anything at all. At least these were the things that he kept telling himself as he tried to avoid the complexes that came with the words that were branded into his skin. The words in question on Keith's arm felt heavy in his skin, almost like they were burning him despite the fact he knew they weren't and they'd been there since the moment he was born. He watched as Matt and Shiro sparred each other a knowing look before both turning to him in unison, and if he hadn't known them better by now, he would have been freaked out by the action.

"Mine Literally only says 'Are you OK?' Do you know how many people have said that to me?" Katie exclaimed.

"It's better than some people's. Keith's is so bad he won't even tell people," Shiro said with a warm laugh. Keith felt even more uncomfortable now, not wanting the spotlight to be switched to him and the mortifying dialogue written on his left wrist.

"If this is your attempt at getting me to say what it is, it isn't working," Keith muttered as he crossed his arms across his chest. He tried to avoid eye contact, allowing his grown out, messy hair to fall in his face as he stared at his feet.

"C'mon," Katie urged from his right side. "It can't be _that_ bad!" When he looked over to her, she was giving him a warm encouraging smile, but like hell was he taking her bait.

"Oh, it can be _that_ bad," he responded bitterly, consciously pulling at the left sleeve of his orange Garrison uniform to make sure it was covering the entirety of his left forearm. He was not enjoying having the three of them nagging him once again on his soulmark, the four words that sat heavily on his arm, metaphorically of course. The three had been up his ass about his soulmark for the past two weeks, since Shiro had walked in on him covering the words with a comically large bandage before a practice simulation.

He remembers the speech Shiro tried to give him about the entire situation, something along the lines of: "Oh, Keith! You shouldn't be ashamed of your soulmark. Your soulmate's first words to you are important and beautiful, no matter what they say!" He tried to reassure him that whatever was on his wrist was special and that one day when he met his soulmate he'd carry the words tattooed on him like a treasure. He had angrily yelled back that the words were everything to be ashamed about, and literally no breathing human that had two brain cells to rub together would ever want his soulmark.

After the whole ordeal, Shiro tried to make him feel better by saying his soulmate's first words to him were nothing but a messily put together pick up line. When he'd offered his arm to Keith, he read the words carefully. _"It's handy we're at a library, I got my card to check you out_ ― _No, I mean_ ― _Nevermind, I'll leave."_

Keith had laughed, shaking his head before offhandedly saying, "Yeah, that's something only Matt would screw up." When Shiro smiled and asked if his was worse than that, and Keith fumed at him that yes, it was really that bad, he had dragged Matt and Katie into the whole ordeal, and now they never left him alone about it.

"Nothing can be worse than what I did, seriously," Matt tried to encourage him, gesturing to Shiro. "And I mean, if it really is, I doubt it's seriously anything to be embarrassed about! They're your soulmate, after all, they're literally meant for you!"

Keith tried to ignore the anger that boiled in him. None of them would understand. How would they feel if they had the words, _"SUCK MY DICK, KOGANE!"_ written into their skin their entire lives? Hell, he had to go his entire elementary school years with Elmo band aids on him because his foster parents didn't even want him seeing the profanities.

"You guys are literally never going to know, just, stop trying," he spoke angrily to the trio before grabbing his backpack. "I'm done having this conversation again. I'm leaving."

He stormed out of the common room without another word, fuming from head to toe with both anger and embarrassment. 

* * *

The lingering feeling of self-consciousness from the previous conversation Keith had just had with Shiro Matt and Katie was taking a toll on Keith's focus. Everything felt like the light and sound of the world was sucked out of it. Keith's soulmark took a serious toll on him, sometimes, which didn't add up in his mind. It was just words, he kept having to remind himself. It's just words. No one even sees them. But they were the world to everybody Keith had ever spoken to.

_Words were everything, soulmarks meant everything._

Keith let out a sigh and tried to focus on anything but himself. He scanned the slowly filling hallways of the academy, as people shuffled towards their dorms for the night. The volume of the hall would rise and fall as people filed in and out. Keith simply sat outside of his dorm, observing, nodding at a familiar face from time to time.

Within a moment of silence, it's broken by a loud voice. "My soulmark is so stupid!" a voice shouts, catching the attention of numerous people throughout the hallways. It led Keith's eyes to a tall boy with tanned skin and shaggy brown hair. He shrank into himself and smiled awkwardly. Keith instantly recognized him. He was in all the same classes as Keith, a really good student, but Keith barely noticed him until now. Now though, Keith was absorbing everything he could about the boy from a physical perspective. He was lean and tall, his hair was messy beyond belief, as if he was trying to appear as if he just barely rolled out of bed. He had dark eyes, but Keith couldn't tell what color they were from the current distance. He was not bad looking, Keith was definitely into it.

In the midst of his one sided staring contest with the boy, Shiro finally arrived at the dorm. "Are you locked out of the room again, Keith?" Shiro asks as he fumbles through his keychain, not looking at Keith. Keith fails to answer, causing Shiro to look over at the black haired boy. Noticing his attention lay elsewhere, he looked over in the general direction his gaze was fixed on, recognizing the boy who stood at the end of the hallway.

"Friend of yours?" Shiro opts to question, finally gaining Keith's attention. Pulling his eyes away from the mysterious boy, he turned to look up at Shiro.

"No!" Keith replied almost defensively and shifted from his spot on the floor in front of the door. "Why'd you follow me?" He questions bitterly after, eyeing the mysterious boy who had begun talking again one more time before putting his full attention onto Shiro.

"Don't know if you noticed, but I was going to have to come here at some point today, you know, to our dorm," Shiro pointed out exasperated, noticing the shift in Keith's attention obviously. He cleared his throat, dropping his keychain back into his pocket before calmly sitting beside Keith without another question.

"His name is Lance McClain," Shiro spoke softly just above a whisper. "He's in a lot of your classes."

"I knew that!" Keith spluttered. He wasn't entirely lying, because yes, he knew that Lance was in a lot of his classes. However, he'd yet to catch a name until now. A huff of breath escaped him as he turned his attention to the floor.

"What's his major?" A rather safe question, he thought.

"He's a Fighter Pilot."

Keith nodded, that made sense, seeing as they were in a lot of the same classes.

"So, uh," Keith paused, swallowing thickly before clearing his throat. "What weapon does he specialize in, then?"

"You seem pretty interested in this boy you barely know, huh?" Shiro teased quietly before elbowing Keith's side. In response, Keith elbowed him back twice as hard, rolling his eyes out of frustration.

"Oh, shut it. If you're going to be like this I'll just―" Keith started to shift away from Shiro, getting ready to get up. Shiro was faster though, grabbing onto Keith's forearm and pulling him back to the ground. They received a few confused glares from a few people passing in the hallway, but no one actually questioned them. Everyone knew better than to question Shiro and his prodigy.

"He specializes in gun control," Shiro informed him calmly, letting go of his forearm. "He's a sniper. Right now, he holds the top rank for shooting. No one's been able to beat him in over a month."

At that, Keith cocked his head to the side. So he wasn't just a good student, but he was good at fighting too. Keith's heart couldn't help but _soar_ at that. He himself held the best record for swords skills combat in his class. He knew how hard it was to become a top rank in any class, it required work, effort, and countless hours of training.

How had Keith not known about Lance before?

His response was nothing but, "Oh. Okay."

He couldn't help but feel his face flush with heat when Shiro started to laugh at his side. Out of good nature, Keith nudged his side, rolling his eyes. When he looked back down the hallway, sure enough, Lance was still standing there, his hands moving about him in emphasis as he spoke animatedly to someone else in the hallway. He stuck out like a sore thumb against the tired students who spoke with softness and carelessness.

"Alright, that's enough floor time for me today," Shiro laughs, standing up beside him. He hears the rattle of keys and decides it'd be best to get up too and out of the way.

"I forgot to tell you, Matt and Katie wanted to apologize for upsetting you earlier." Shiro unlocked their door, shoving it open with a harsh push. "I'm sorry, too, you know," Shiro confessed. "We are just trying to be there for you, we want you to know you can come to us. We get that... You know, it is a bit sensitive for you though... So again, we're sorry."

Keith couldn't help but feel both understanding and forgiving. He knew, at the end of the day, his friends were just trying to be there for him and make him feel supported. Even though conversations about soulmates left him feeling drained and self-conscious, he was still grateful they tried to reassure him that no matter what his soulmark was, it'd be okay.

"It's okay," Keith confessed, following Shiro into their small dorm room. "I forgive you guys, even though you three can be the most persistent fuc―"

"Language, young one."

"I― I'm not even that young, Shiro! I'm like, what? Four years younger than you!"

"Still young, in my opinion."

"But Shiro―" Keith's rebuttal was cut off when Shiro turned around and pointed at their whiteboard that was hung in the middle of the room, hushing him.

"The board says it's time for you to go to bed," Shiro spoke mischievously, a single finger swaying toward the board. Sure enough written on their schedule, which Shiro made out of pure spite of him, it said that nine-o'clock was "bedtime." The Garrison didn't have strict rules on bedtimes or when you should be in your dorm, as they believed that you needed to be on top of that yourself, so of course, Shiro took it upon himself to be the responsible one between the two.

"Good night, Keith!"

"You literally stink."

* * *

Keith recognized Lance almost immediately when he walked into the cafeteria for breakfast the following day. It was like his eyes sought him out without Keith really needing to think about it. The lively boy was already sitting down at one of the first tables, looking more put together than the day before. His hair had been brushed out, his uniform looking pressed out against his shoulders.

_Was it possible that he looked better than yesterday?_

Lance didn't seem to notice the eyes on him when Keith passed him and stepped into the breakfast line, keeping his head straight as he observed the boy through the corner of his eye. He took a moment to analyze the other's face, watching as his eyebrows dropped and rose as he spoke, a pointed smile still pulling at his face. He realized at that moment that Lance's eyes were a dark crystal blue, a starking contrast to his skin.

Lance was speaking animatedly again, hands waving around as he practically buzzed in his seat. He had been talking too quietly for Keith to hear him until suddenly he shoved his wrist into the guy beside him's face and shouted, "What is it even supposed to mean!"

Partially out of his own self-awareness, he tugged at the sleeve of his left arm. So he was rambling on again about his soulmark, huh? Keith couldn't help but fill the slightest bit of understanding. If Keith hadn't grown up practically scolded for his, he'd probably be joking about it with his friends.

It just never seemed fitting to him. Not after all the years of confusion he grew up with it.

It wasn't until Keith felt a small hand tug at his right arm that he was looking away, startled when he turned to see two large hazel eyes blinking up at him.

"Yo," Katie whispered before cutting in front of him. "Hope you don't mind me cutting you, I slept in a little later than usual," she laughed before turning her attention in the direction Keith had been looking in.

"What were you looking at?" Katie always picked up on things easily, that was just who she was. Keith wanted to despise her for it sometimes, it always got her into his business whether she meant to or not.

"Nothing?" Keith replied, not sounding entirely convincing. Katie nodded, a smirk pulling on her face.

"Uh-huh," she hummed, looking back over to the table.

Whether it was out of shame of being caught casually staring down a classmate he just kind of learned about, or whether it was out of being scared to cause a scene because he knew how loud Katie could get, his heart started to race.

"You can't hide things from me, Keith, you should know that by now," Katie scolded as they moved up in the breakfast line.

"I'm not hiding anything," Keith stressed because honestly, he wasn't. It wasn't his fault that Lance just naturally gathered people's attention.

"Just tell me what's up!"

"Nothing's up."

"You were spaced out for a good few minutes, definitely was nothing."

"Katie―"

"Keith―"

"Good morning!" The morning lunch-lady greeted them, and suddenly, both of them were dead silent. Both of them gave her forced smiles as she filled their trays up with french toast and pancakes. It wasn't until after the two of them had gotten their food trays and were taking them to their usual table where they sat with Shiro and Matt that either of them spoke.

"Tell me!"

"I'll literally eat your breakfast, don't tempt me."

"Bet. Try. C'mon, try and take it, big guy. I'd like to see you try!" Katie taunted as they took their seats in front of Shiro and Matt. The two looked at them with confusion.

"What's up?" Shiro was first to ask, looking between Katie, who was looking at Keith with determination, and Keith, who was staring daggers back at her.

As Keith said, "Nothing!" Katie was speaking in unison with, "Something!"

"Awe, they're fighting again," Matt cooed between bites of his own french toast. God, if looks could kill, everyone would be dropping dead around Keith.

"Keith won't tell me what he was staring at earlier." Katie was quick to rat him out. With fast reflexes, Keith was reaching out to her plate, grabbing a piece of french toast and taking a big bite of it. Katie gasped offendedly, reaching out for his plate in protest, but failed as he grabbed his tray and moved it further away from her.

Without another word, Katie was pointing over to the table where Lance was sitting at with absolutely no shame. Matt and Shiro followed her movement immediately, and with a huff, Keith was trying to push her arm down to not cause any more of a scene.

"The underclassman table?" Matt questioned, leaning back in his seat to look around Shiro.

"Oh," Shiro gasped. "Lance again?"

Keith couldn't help but bury his face into his hands.

"Lance who now?" asked Katie.

"Oh, McClain. The kid in the fighter pilot class," Shiro supplied nonchalantly. "Keith and I were talking about him yesterday."

"Why do you guys leave me out of the drama!" Katie whined, tugging on Keith's arm.

Through his hands, Keith mumbly replied, "There was no drama. I just didn't know who he was. 'Was just curious."

At least that wasn't a lie. There was no drama, after all.

He was _just_ curious.

The rest of their breakfast block, Keith tried to ignore Katie's questions, eating the rest of his breakfast. And just because he is somewhat kind, he gave Katie a piece of his french toast to make up for taking hers.

Later that night, Keith was walking down the simulation hallway, where there were different simulation rooms to focus on all types of techniques. The rooms always reminded him of the simulation decks from The Hunger Games, but that was a comment he'd always keep to himself. His original intent was to walk down to the sword fighting simulation and work on his form, but as he'd gotten halfway down the hall, he heard a lot of commotion. It took him only a few seconds of listening to realize it was coming from the shooting simulation room.

Out of curiosity, he changed his destination. He hadn't been into the shooting range simulation before, he was never good with guns. He'd picked up a few since being at the Garrison, shot a few rounds, but never genuinely practiced with them. He just did what was necessary to pass his weaponry specialization test. He was a swordsman at heart, after all.

When he walked into the sim room, he wasn't sure what he was expecting to see. He noticed the crowd first lining the walls of the room, chanting and yelling about something. He stepped to the side, staying close to the walls as other cadets brushed up against him. There had to be about a hundred cadets in here, more than he'd ever seen in a sim before.

When he looks to the middle of the room, he notices two people standing on the training platforms.

Lance McClain and James Griffin.

If there was anyone in the world Keith hated more, it was James Griffin. He'd gotten into his fair share of fights with him. He was always fighting him for something, always. Whether it was about Keith's personal issues or training issues, the kid always had a bone to pick with him. Keith would be straight up lying if he said he'd never punched him before.

When Keith turned to look at his side, he recognized someone. It was the boy that Lance had been talking to at breakfast and last night. Clearing his throat, he nudges the other's arm just the slightest to grab his attention. When he turns over with a smile, Keith takes a second to look at the name tag emblem written into his shirt.

_"Hunk."_

"What's, uh," Keith pauses, clearing his throat again. "What's happening?"

"Oh!" Hunk replies. He seems bubbly, there's a huge smile on his face. He's jittery in the same way Lance seems to be, he's practically buzzing in his shoes. "James challenged Lance for his top shooter rank, they're about to duel it out," he finishes before turning back to where the two are standing.

"Oh?" Keith says, turning to look toward the middle. His attention is just in time, and he watches as the two shake hands before lifting their arms in the air. Like that, the simulation is activated and a particle barrier is put around the two. The crowd moves back more, and Keith stands stiffly with his back against the wall when someone backs up into him. He's much shorter than the kid in front of him, and with a sigh, he gets up on his tippy toes in an attempt to see what was happening.

He heard the gunshots before he saw them. When he finally got a good view of them, there were targets floating about them, and the two were back-to-back shooting them down.

Keith watches James for not even a second. He watches his stiff position, watches how his arms curl up as he holds the sniper rifle against his chest. He looks uneasy and untrained, and suddenly, Keith is even questioning why he's dueling Lance in the first place.

Looking over to Lance, Keith realizes how easily shooting comes to Lance. He's nowhere close to as stiff as James is as he holds the sniper against his left shoulder. With ease, he drops to one knee, resting his elbow against it as he looks up.

He doesn't miss a single shot. Keith can, quite literally, feel his jaw drop. Every target on Lance's side goes down in a second flat, the shots ring fast and quick.

He's skilled.

Keith likes that.

The simulation ends in just a few minutes when the sim's robot voice announces, "Winner, score, 17,806, Lance McClain."

The particle barrier raises, and Lance stands up. He's a bit out of breath, small puffs leaving him as he wipes his forehead. James, on the other hand, is shaking as he turns around, sniper rifle dropping in one hand.

"Beat that, Griffin!" Lance shouts, pointing an accusing finger at him.

There is so much confidence, so much determination, and so much happiness in the smile Lance possessed at that moment, that Keith truly thinks his heart may have fried.

* * *

In the weeks that followed after Keith learned about Lance McClain, he found himself unable to escape him. He's everywhere. He sticks out against the crowd, but in a good way. He's happy, spunky, lively, and honestly the complete opposite of Keith. He thinks he likes that though.

He wonders how he never noticed him as much in the first place.

He always picks him out in the dining hall, sitting with Hunk and a handful of others he doesn't know that well. He's always the center of attention but in a good way. He knows how to keep the conversation going, he was always filling the silence.

Keith couldn't help how his eyes just gravitated toward him.

Whether Katie, Shiro, and Matt noticed his distance during their meals, they never pointed it out after his first little incident with Katie.

He noticed, in their classes, Lance always volunteered to respond to questions. He sat in the front of the classroom, eager and ready for every class. He never seemed to be down in the dumps or having a bad day. He spoke to everyone, and Keith meant everyone, with the same happy and peppy tone.

Well, maybe not everyone. From what Keith knew, Lance had been avoiding James since their simulator battle. He wouldn't blame him if that was true. He had his fair share of James-related issues.

He notices that he and Lance actually have sim training sessions together. The two never talk directly, though. Keith doesn't talk to anyone during those.

Maybe that's why he was never picked as the front fighter.

Despite his own complications, Keith realizes Lance is good at flying. Really good, actually. He maneuvers the simulators with ease. He heard from other cadets that Lance wasn't good at the sim in the beginning and that he'd crash a lot actually.

If that was the case, it definitely isn't the same case anymore.

It isn't until exactly four weeks after Keith learns about Lance that he decides he needs to find a way to talk to him. Why, exactly? Keith doesn't know the answer to that. He just knows no matter what, he can't seem to not find a time of day where Lance isn't involved in his life now.

It was like Shiro cursed him or something.

It was after one particular sim session he had with Lance that he decided he needed to talk to someone. Their crew was James, Lance, Ryan, Nadia, and himself. They were in a particularly hard sim, level ten, going through different types of rock formations.

"We need to move right," Ryan shouted through gritted teeth.

"No, left!" James yelled back.

"I'm actually pretty sure we need to go up?" Nadia questioned.

Nadia was their front fighter, and they were following after her in formation.

"We're going to break formation if we don't figure something out," Ryan points out as they come up to a large rock. They fly up in sync.

Their bickering continues, and neither Keith or Lance say anything. They're both at the ends of the formation, trying to keep up. It isn't until they go through a particularly hard rock formation that their form breaks, and James starts yelling at Ryan to move left.

One after another, Nadia hits a rock, James crashes, and Ryan goes off the sim, and the three are out, leaving just Lance and Keith.

"You guys broke formation," Iverson's disappointed voice rings into their simulation room.

Both Keith and Lance are continuing the motions through the simulator, and it only lasts for a moment before Keith finds himself trying to fly through two rocks and breaks off the wing of his jet. He was never that good at close flight simulations, come to think of it.

Lance is the only one who finished the simulator that day.

When they exit the sim room, Keith can faintly hear Lance shout, "And that's why they call me the tailor! Because of how I _thread the needle_!"

And he laughs, he really laughs at that.

It was that night that Keith had walked into his shared dorm to already find Shiro there, sitting on his bed with his laptop.

"Hey, Shiro," Keith greeted as he shut their door. He walked over to his own bed and slumped against it tiredly.

"Hey," Shiro greeted back, lifting his head from his computer. "Are you alright? What's wrong?"

"I think― I think I have an issue?" he confesses. "Like, a pretty big one."

"You're confiding in me, for once?"

His mind slips back to their soulmark conversations; something he still avoided like the plague. No one had even brought it up since that day a few weeks ago when he stormed out of the common room.

With a slow-motion, he ran his fingers over the bandage that covered his left wrist. A shaky breath escaped him.

"This is different," he explains. "This is about like, a real person. Like, something that's already happened."

"Oh?" Shiro quirks his head. "What's your issue."

"You cursed me," accuses Keith, because that was the only thing that seemed like it made sense these days.

"The― What do you _mean_ I cursed you?" Shiro gasps offendedly.

"Just what I said," Keith huffs like it should be obvious what the issue is. When Shiro doesn't speak again, he groans, loudly.

"That Lance kid!"

Shiro raises an eyebrow, amused. "Okay. What about him?" He takes the bait, closing his laptop.

"I― I don't even _know_ ," he confesses. "Ever since you pointed him out in the hallway, I can't get him off my mind! He's like, everywhere!"

"What'd you expect? You guys are in the same classes, of course, he would be," Shiro pauses. "Second of all, you were the one staring him down first. I just provided you with the information I thought you'd enjoy."

Keith grumbles at that.

"So what's the issue?"

Flat out, he replies with, "he's cute."

Keith paused for a moment. He had never come out before to Shiro, not directly at least. It wasn't like he was worried, seeing as Shiro had a boyfriend of his own. He'd understand out of all people at least.

He didn't miss how his heart beat faster after that though.

"Oh," Shiro laughs. "Why don't you talk to him then?"

Keith snaps up from his bed, hands in front of his face. "Are you crazy! I haven't even spoken to him once since I started school here, that'd be like, weird!" He starts off, shaking his head. "Second of all, why do you even suggest I talk to him!"

"You think he's cute? Why not go for it?"

"There's a lot― I mean _a lot_ of complications that go along with that, Shiro," Keith points out angrily. "I barely know him... Isn't it, like, weird I am just, you know, drawn to him? Then there's the fact he's probably straight―" Keith pauses. "Don't you believe in soulmates too? He's most definitely not mine."

Shiro can't help but laugh. "Calm down, Keith, don't stress yourself out about it. There's no shame in dating before you find your soulmate, you know that, right?"

"Who ever said I wanted to find mine?"

There was an eerie silence. He couldn't help but turn away from Shiro's glare, fingers running over the bandage again. Did he even really mean that? Now wanting to even find his soulmate?

He'd entertained the thought before, of actually meeting the person who tainted his skin. Entertained the thought the person wasn't actually as bad as he thought they could be.

Yet, there were so many questions that arose when he thought about his soulmate. Obviously, they had to have known him, or at least about him, before they actually spoke first. Second, why would his soulmate even make that comment? Was it a joke? A stab at his _sexuality_?

When he glances back to Shiro, the other is looking at him with a content expression, eyebrows drawn down and lips pressed together.

"Sorry." He says it quickly, like ripping a bandage off because he's not sure what else he's supposed to say after that.

Shiro nodded and dismissed the conversation. It was a silent agreement to not talk about soulmates around him now, and for that, Keith was grateful.

"Why don't you just try to be his friend first?"

_"How?"_

"Talk to him?"

"I feel like I couldn't even get his attention. It's not like he's noticed me before," Keith sighs, recalling all the times he'd blatantly stared at Lance and didn't even get a questioning look out of it. It was like he just looked right through him.

"Talk to him." Shiro urges again.

"Too hard."

"How else do you expect to get his attention?"

Keith thinks for a moment. He truly, really thinks. And it hits him.

_"Competition!"_

"Competition?" Shiro parrots back. "What do you mean by that?"

"He's competitive. He'll give anyone attention during a competition," Keith rattles off. "I'm going to beat his high score in shooting."

Shiro laughs, again. And this time his laughter leaves the room shaking.

* * *

The next day, Keith finds himself in their dorm's bathroom half dressed. He already has his uniform pants on and a white tank top, but his cadet's coat is hanging over the shower curtain.

He's staring down at his left wrist where four bold words sat, a package of new bandaids sitting on the sink in front of him.

It's like the words taunted him on purpose.

_"SUCK MY DICK, KOGANE!"_

He runs his fingers over the familiar capitalized letters softly. He takes in the warmth his fingers give off to the cold skin there. He runs his fingers over them again, harsher, like he's trying to rub them off.

When the pale skin around the black words begin to turn red with irritation, he stops.

An irritated sigh rips itself from him. He drops his elbows to the sink counter, burying his face into his hands.

His chest heaves.

Why did this have to be so hard? Weren't soulmates supposed to be set in stone? Who was it that said the universe never made mistakes?

It really did feel like the universe made mistakes. What kind of sick joke was this, anyway?

He couldn't help remembering his early childhood years, looking at the words on his wrist and one day innocently blurting out to his family, "What's a dick?" He was going to have to understand what that word meant anyway one day, just, maybe not at the age of three.

He couldn't help remembering his early middle school years, the handful of days he'd forgotten to cover the words. He remembers someone angrily grabbing his arm and slapping him. He remembers them calling him things his _parents_ would never approve of him repeating.

He remembered the harassment he endured until he got into the Garrison.

Angrily, he pushed off from the skin counter. Grabbing at the box of band-aids and pulled one out, threw the box back onto the sink with a huff, and peeled the wrapper off the band-aid. He stuck it over the words with a slap.

Grabbing his coat frantically from over the shower curtain rod, he stormed out of the bathroom feeling more drained than he had in a really, really long time.

* * *

It's two in the morning on a Friday night when Keith walks into the shooting sim room. He picked a time he knew no one would be around. He was going to follow through with the idea he had pitched to Shiro the other day. He had to find a way to become a good shooter first if he had any hope of beating Lance's score.

When he enters the sim room, the first thing he does is check the rankings.

**_TOP RANK: Lance McClain, 18,000._ ** **_  
_ ** **_SECOND: Ryan Kinkade, 16,837._ ** **_  
_ ** **_THIRD: James Griffin, 15,384._ **

The perfect score on the sim was 20,000.

Closing down down the ranking screen, Keith sighed. This, by far, had to have been the worst idea he ever came up with. He wasn't a sniper, or any sort of gunman, honestly. He was a swordsman, and his 19,463 score on the sword fighting sim proved it.

That 18,000 score meant Lance had hit over 160 targets in one go.

Walking over to the rack of sniper rifles, Keith picked up one and tossed the rifle between his hands, feeling out the weight. It was heavy, but not heavier than any of the swords he'd dealt with.

Thankfully, he was the only one in the sim room and couldn't make a fool of himself in front of anyone else. He walked up to one of the platforms and turned on the control panel to turn on some targets. The particle barrier dropped, and cautiously, Keith raised the sniper rifle against his right shoulder in a similar way he remembered Lance doing.

Loosening his arms up, he brought the scope up to his eyes. He'd shot before, back in freshman year, but he was never that good. He had a slow trigger finger, and after, his shoulders would burn.

Bracing for impact, he aimed at the first target. The shot sent his shoulders back, but with ease, the bullet hit the target.

A sigh left him as he dropped the rifle. He looked down at it, tossing it again in his hands.

He was going to need a lot of practice.

Keith began following a schedule after that night. Avoid talking to Lance every day, go about his normal life, sleep for a few hours, and wake up at 4 am to train in the shooting sim room alone until 6 am. It was easy enough, he was used to not running on a lot of sleep anyway.

It didn't take him long to pick up on the basics of shooting at least. If there was one thing Keith could pride himself in, it was that picking up new things came easy to him as long as he put in the dedication and work.

He started getting comfortable with shooting, learning better positions to keep his sniper rifle at first. He got used to the burning in his shoulders after awhile too. He learned the more he dealt with the rifle, the more confident he got with holding it, the less affected he was by the recoil.

Accuracy of hitting targets came easy, he had to learn the basics during freshman year, after all. It was the matter of learning to be fast and accurate, swaying from target to target. He wasn't good at it the first week he started off. He was actually very, very terrible, hitting the particle barrier more times than the targets themselves. He was more the, get yourself ready, aim for one target, and done type of person.

After each session, Keith left tired, sweaty, and aching from his shoulders. But damn, was he determined to get this guy's attention.

* * *

It took him a week to get up to 10,000 points on the simulator. Two weeks to reach 12,000. Three weeks to take James Griffin's third-place spot on the leaderboard with 16,000.

Word got around after that, fast.

"You're changing your specialization class?" Katie questioned him over dinner one night.

"What? What do you mean?" Keith questioned with confusion.

"Dude," deadpanned Katie. "It's all anyone's been talking about."

"I'm confused? Did someone take my top tank on sword skills?" Keith was beginning to stand, but Katie grasped onto his arm.

"You're ranked number three in shooting," she supplied, bringing him back down to his seat. "James has been talking about it to everyone. You haven't heard?"

"No, I haven't," he confessed. The James Griffin was talking about him? That wasn't so surprising, honestly.

"When did you take up shooting? Especially sniper class? I thought you only did sword skills."

"I still do sword skills, I just decided to pick up another weapon. Swords skills is still my specialized class." Keith brushed it off like it was nothing, but he knew Katie would know better. She always knew better, after all.

"When have you been practicing in the sim? No one's ever seen you there. Hell, I haven't!"

"Usually early in the morning? I wasn't the best when I started out, so I tried to go when I knew no one else would be there," he replied. He knew at least that was safe to say, there was no way she could question his truthfulness there when that was genuinely the truth. The only thing missing was the _motive._

She didn't seem to press, but she did give him a head tilt after. "Can I watch you practice?"

"Wait what― you want to watch me practice?" he spluttered, face heating. He'd still yet to practice in front of anyone!

"Yeah, why not?" Katie questioned as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I want to see my bestie _fuck up_ that simulator, like you did with the swords skills one! That session was killer!"

And Keith caved.

Right after dinner, Katie was dragging him to the simulator hall. His heart was racing when he realized there were a few lingering students in the hallway. He prayed, and prayed, and prayed that there wouldn't be anyone in the shooting sim room, but to his dismay, there were a handful of cadets standing toward the corner of the room, looking at the stats.

Katie makes their entrance known when she lets go of him, turns around, and says, "don't chicken out on me, I know you're good."

Keith watches their movements from the corner of his eyes. They pause their conversations before shutting the stats down. There really was no way he could back out now. He sends daggers toward Katie, and she smiles smugly at him.

He feels like he's on trial as he walks over to the sniper rifle rack and picks up one. With clammy hands, he tosses it between his hands like he would usually do. Force of habit, he'd say. That's how he'd get comfortable with the weight of a sword. When he turns back from the rack, the other cadets have lined up against the wall, eyes pointed in interest toward him. Katie stood off to the other side of the room by herself, giving him two quick thumbs up before nodding.

With a heavy breath, Keith makes his way up to the pedestal. He's stood on it a good amount of times now, especially with how much he's trained to get the top rank. It was stupid though, wasn't it? Trying so hard for something just to get another person's attention? He didn't even want to be a shooter, anyway, and now look where he was. He contemplated that thought as he stood on the pedestal, rifle feeling heavier than it normally did as he raised an arm up and initiated the simulator.

All eyes were on him when the particle barrier lowered, and then, it was just him, the rifle in his hands, and the targets materializing around him.

He tried to picture it like any other training session he had; alone and fearless.

He lifted the rifle to his shoulder, and with a shaky breath, he aimed for the floating targets just above him.

He tried to picture the room around him empty, not filled with his fellow peers waiting on his judgment.

With one last shaky breath, he dropped to one knee, pulling the scope of the sniper rifle to one eye, and began firing. One by one he watched as the floating and spinning targets around him diminished into thin air as the bullets made contact with them.

He got lost in the motions quickly. It was easy to get lost in them. For Keith, battle had always been a form of escape.

The motions of battle never needed deep thinking like other things in life.

He just needed to see and react. It was easy and simple. It didn't need to be difficult.

When he'd first picked up swords fighting, he felt at peace for once. Getting lost in the movements of the blade just felt right, in some way. It felt like he could just switch to auto-poilot sometimes. It was just like his body knew what it was doing. Picking up the sniper was similar, in a way. Sure, when he'd first started shooting, it was hard to just not think. He had to think about _everything_ ; posture, form, where the targets were moving, and how fast they were moving. With time and practice though, it got easier. He just went through the motions.

He wondered if Lance felt the same way when he was shooting. Was it like second nature to him? It had to have been if he was top shooter, Keith thought.

Readjusting his grip around the trigger of the sniper rifle, Keith watched as targets whirled in front of him. He had to shoot them down before they disappeared by themselves.

The shooting simulator was a lot different than the swords skills one. In the shooting simulator, you practiced your aim and how quick you could be to get to the target, while in the swords skills one, you went up against a bot at close range. The difference between them made sense though, seeing as one was made for close combat while the other wasn't.

When Keith began to feel sweat dripping from his forehead, he slowly rose from his knee, still focusing on his shooting. It wasn't until he began to turn to his other side to give one of his arms a break that he saw it.

Beside him, his score was visible, and in a silver color, a new number shined at him.

He'd just beaten Ryan's score.

**17,400.**

His awe didn't last for long when he realized the targets were still floating around him.

Swallowing down the confusion that filled him, he began aiming for the targets above his head. His fingers burned, his shoulders starting to feel sore, but he kept going.

If he kept going and didn't miss any more targets, he could beat Lance's score. In front of a crowd. Word would get around even quicker, then. There would be no way Lance could ignore him then. He'd have to pay him some mind. Any attention!

Would he be furious if his top score was taken? Impressed? Confused? The possibilities were kind of endless.

Would it be weird if Keith admitted he was _excited_ to find out?

It wasn't until he hit one more target and realized there were no more targets materializing that he realized the simulator had finished.

Dropping the sniper rifle into one hand, he wiped the sweat from his forehead. His chest felt heavy with pressure as he gasped for air. Who knew how hard shooting could be?

"New high score, 18,304, Keith Kogane."

With wide eyes, he turned his head over his shoulder. There, written in sparkly gold, was the new high score he'd just managed.

Around him, the particle barrier raised. The silence in the room was no more. When he'd turned around, he was met with a crowd of people cheering and shouting. Startled, he moved back.

There had to have been more than two hundred people in this room alone.

_"Congratulations, Kogane!"_

_"A guy of many talents!"_

_"Top on two simulators!"_

He couldn't pinpoint any faces he genuinely recognized at first. He saw faces of kids he knew were in his other classes, and timidly, he waved toward them. When he looked around the room, he couldn't find the person he was looking for though. Where did Katie even go?

He didn't stay on the pedestal much longer, feeling like he was the center of attention and way too crowded. Dropping from the pedestal, he moved through the crowd slowly, feeling pats on his back and cheers shouted around him. He tried to keep a smile as he returned the rifle to the rack where it belonged. When he turned around, he felt a steady hand gripping onto his shoulder.

"Keith," a familiar voice called out through the crowd. Looking up, Keith saw a very familiar face finally.

"Shiro!" Keith shouted in surprise. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long." Shiro sighed. "I was walking past the hall and I heard someone scream your name. I thought you were fighting James, again."

"Well, I wasn't!" Keith says proudly before pointing at the score screen that was still visible. "See that, Shiro? I did _that!"_

Shiro turns his head over his shoulder for a moment. "Keith, I didn't actually think you meant what you said that night―"

"I was dead serious," Keith deadpans before shrugging Shiro's hand off him. "C'mon, we need to find Katie."

Shiro, out of good nature, rolls his eyes and follows after Keith into the crowd of cadets. Trying his best to get to the corner of the room he remembered seeing her in before, Keith excuses himself between cadets, mumbling quick thank yous when people congratulate him.

When he sees a familiar blonde ponytail pulled up in a green bow, he just about shouts her name until he realizes she's talking to someone. Someone very, very familiar.

"He just comes waltzing in, and takes it just like _that!_ " The person talking to her shouts, and she laughs.

"Apparently he's been working for it for a while?" She shrugs. "I didn't know either, I just heard he got on the leaderboards and I was like, dude, you have to show me."

Behind him, Shiro pauses. "What's wrong?" He questions, and quickly, Keith finds himself shushing Shiro furiously.

"He's not going to hold that spot for long," the other huffs. Keith feels his heart speed up when the person is looking up. He makes eye-contact with Lance McClain for the first time at that moment. "Gotta blast," he says to Katie before sticking his tongue out at Keith and spins out of the room like a lightning bolt.

With a confused look, she turns around, eyes meeting with Keith's.

"Keith!"

"Katie!" He shouts back with just as much enthusiasm she has. Rushing up to her, she pulls him into a hug.

"Dude, that was absolutely epic. You killed it!" She laughs before pulling away from their hug. She takes a moment to look up at Shiro and smile. "Did you see this lunatic? Number one on two simulators!"

The two are talking, but Keith barely catches any of their conversations when he looks back to the door to see Lance is completely gone.


End file.
